Or he gathered enough courage to ask it.
***
Hudson had to shake his head several times to get away from the avalanche of pleasant sensations that had taken both his body and mind by storm ever since he had put his hands on his beautiful neighbor tonight. What was he truly doing, getting Otis all mixed up with his investigation?
But that wasn’t what was truly happening, was it? That damn Jackie had to try his luck by trying to lure Otis of all people to that den of iniquity, and left him with no choice. Yeah, he snorted at himself, rationalize more. If he were completely honest — an ability that he appeared to be incapable of lately — he could protect Otis without kissing him and telling him how beautiful he was.
Easier said than done, right? Hudson felt hard-pressed to explain the situation to himself. If Otis weren’t so endearing, so innocent, and so willing to fall into his arms, things would be completely different. But beggars can’t be choosers. Another rationalization. Great. If that made him a beggar, he was one lucky mofo, because it definitely felt like someone had just dropped a million-dollar check into his lap.
He pressed his forehead against the door and groaned. He needed to get his head screwed on right and fast. There was an investigation that wanted him, no, needed him to be on top of his game, and it had to be now that the most beautiful person in the world had chosen to step into his life.
He walked into the room and took in the BDSM paraphernalia on the wall, waiting for the dark images from the case file to flood him and erase every trace of the overwhelming pleasure he had felt while kissing Otis only earlier. The whips, the paddles, the muzzles and the leashes seemed nothing but inert objects that tonight failed to elicit anything of the kind in him. Actually, it was the opposite when he happened to look at a thin strip of leather, which he touched gently. How would Otis look if he were to play the puppy-in-training part?
He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. He would try his damnedest not to picture his pretty neighbor in such a getup. Because that was an off-limits fantasy. Yes, definitely.
***
“How’s your stomach?” Missy asked him as soon as she saw him at work the next day.
“My stomach is fine,” Otis replied, wondering why his friend was asking him about that in particular.
“Maybe those drinks didn’t agree with it,” Missy said and leaned into him. “Me, I got a little smashed. Jackie had to carry me home.”
Jackie, according to Hudson, was a rat. Not a cute mouse like a cartoon character, but like a pest. Otis didn’t know how to tell Missy that. Rats could be dangerous; they could bite and, depending on the century, give you the bubonic plague. Sure thing, Jackie wouldn’t bite Missy, because that would be a ludicrous scene.
“You know, that boy is smitten with you,” Missy continued. “He kept on blabbing how disappointed he was about not seeing you before you left. And he wasn’t the only one. Hey, you know Utah said that you disappeared with a tall tattooed stranger? I thought he was just pulling Jackie’s leg to see him squirm, but now that I think about it… did you hook up last night, Otis?” she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
“No,” Otis said and felt a bit disappointed over it. He would have hooked up if Hudson had offered. What was he thinking now? He shook his head in horror. That kind of behavior made him into a… He didn’t know the right word for it. Maybe he could ask Missy, but that didn’t feel like the right thing to do, either.
“What about the tattooed stranger? Was Utah talking out of his ass?” Missy nudged him playfully.
Otis snickered. No one could talk out of their asses, but it was a funny thing to imagine. “That was my neighbor.”
Missy stopped for a moment and her mouth formed a perfect O. “Your neighbor? Do you mean, THE neighbor?”
Otis could stop her and explain that Hudson was one neighbor of many, but she seemed too excited to listen to such explanations. “Yes, the one with the tattoos. Who I kissed,” he added. “In the past. Last night, he kissed me.”
Missy began fanning herself rapidly with her hands. “Wow, wow, wow, Otis, slow down, this train’s moving too fast.” What train? “I mean, anyone would look at you and sees this prim and proper dude who you’d take home to momma, and you’re actually a total vixen.”
He would prefer to be a puppy and get properly trained by Hudson with the help of a leash. And maybe… squeaky toys? Or treats? He shook his head again, afraid that Missy might read such thoughts on his face.
“And? After he kissed you, what happened?” Missy asked, apparently unaware of whatever was going on through his head.
“He escorted me to my door, although that’s not very far from his door, and said ‘good night’. After he kissed me one more time, very briefly. Also, he mentioned bed bugs, although I should have told him I don’t have those. My apartment is clean, and I do the laundry every week.”
Missy shrieked so loudly that he cringed. “He took you to the door and kissed you goodnight? O. M. G., Otis, how did you find this guy? He’s a total gentleman. How could he let a little scrumptious thing like you get away without a scratch?” Were there people who scratched others for fun? Otis felt his head swimming with new information, as his co-worker continued her tirade. “Don’t tell me. Is he straight? Or bi, at least? Because if he is, and you don’t introduce me to him, I will hate you forever.”
Otis had no intention to bring Missy’s wrath upon his head, and he also needed to be honest. “I don’t think he is interested in women. Even his work is about having men over all the time.”
That seemed to confuse Missy even more. “What is he doing with them? Oh, don’t tell me. I hope he’s not a manwhore. You know, one for cash.”
“What do you mean by that?” Otis asked, now interested in tapping into the well of knowledge that Missy seemed to be.
“You know. A guy who sleeps with people and gets money for it. Gay for pay, my sweet innocent friend,” she added and laughed.
“Oh, no. He pays people. Not to sleep with them, but to take pictures. He has a couch for it, too. And many interesting things on the wall.” Otis was, indeed, very much interested in those things on the wall. Not only the leashes, now that he thought about it.
“Wow, a real casting couch?” Missy asked, adding even more information to the things he needed to understand. “Did he ask you to pose for him?”
“No. I don’t believe that I’m in the same league,” he used the phrase clumsily hoping that it was correct, “with the men who visit him. They are all attractive. And they tend to have a good meat percentage.”
“Meat percentage,” Missy said slowly as her eyes fogged up. “Ah, you mean, muscles?” She caught her left bicep with her right hand to make a point.
“Yes. Some have big muscles. Others, not so much, but they’re still handsome,” Otis explained.
“Your neighbor is a very interesting fellow. And it looks like he’s big into courting you,” Missy said and flashed a huge smile at him. She gave him two thumbs up.